


Stitches

by JEAikman



Series: The Musketeers - prompts and one-shots [49]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Injury, Stitches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 04:18:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2095494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JEAikman/pseuds/JEAikman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It doesn't seem fair," d'Artagnan mused one day as Aramis was stitching up a wound slicing across his thigh, "that you stitch us all up like this, but if the same thing happened to you, we wouldn't be able to do a damned thing."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stitches

**Author's Note:**

> This was another one that I've had sitting in my unfinished folder for a while. I do hope you enjoy, and I always love to know what you think, so comments are most welcome :)

"It doesn't seem fair," d'Artagnan mused one day as Aramis was stitching up a wound slicing across his thigh, "that you stitch us all up like this, but if the same thing happened to you, we wouldn't be able to do a damned thing."

He had passed out right afterwards, but for whatever reason, the words had stuck with the older Musketeer as he had tied off the stitches and wrapped a bandage around d'Artagnan's leg. They played a quiet drumbeat in the back of his mind, becoming louder when the wounded were all tended to and he had a moment of quiet to think for himself. The mission had been simple enough in theory, and the bandits who had attacked them were clearly just opportunists as opposed to traitors to the crown, but they'd done enough damage, both to d'Artagnan and a few of the others, though thankfully, most of the wounds were not deep enough to require stitches.

 

Surprise surprise, d'Artagnan decided to go and be a hero and shove Aramis out of the way of someone brandishing a sword at him and one of the wounded musketeers he had been attempting to move. The wound wouldn't have been so bad if the stupid boy had just stayed still, but they were in the middle of hostile territory and they couldn't afford to slow down. They'd strapped the others to the horses and the ones who were unharmed provided cover fire.

He didn't even know d'Artagnan had been injured until they were on their horses, and he looked over and saw how pale he was. There hadn't really been much he could do about it then except to call him an idiot and tell him that he should take better care of himself. Once they returned to the garrison, however, he made quick work of the stitching, willing his hands not to shake. If the wound had been half an inch deeper, it would have sliced an artery and d'Artagnan would have bled out in minutes.

 

That had not happened, Aramis forcefully reminded himself, as he took a deep and steadying breath and turned to take in the sight of the wounded musketeer sleeping peacefully, and took comfort in the steady rise and fall of his chest.

As he left the infirmary after thoroughly washing his hands, he found Athos and Porthos both sitting on one of the benches in the garrison courtyard, evidently having been waiting for him.

"How is d'Artagnan?" Athos inquired, "Treville told us he was injured." Aramis hummed absently and sighed.

"He's alright, but he needed stitches. He's sleeping now though, so try not to disturb him." Porthos grimaced at the mention of stitches.

"Did ya need to knock him out?" he questioned, having turned a funny shade of green.

"No, actually, he was quite quiet and well-behaved."

"That doesn't sound like d'Artagnan at all." Athos interjected with a wry smile, and Aramis shook his head.

"The wound wasn't too deep but by the time we got back, he'd lost, whilst not a dangerous amount, quite a lot of blood. I wouldn't be surprised if he's tired and lethargic for a few days while he recovers." The tension seemed to melt out of his two friends at his reassurances that their youngest would be well.

 

He let them go and check with their own eyes the state of the boy's health, and made his way to Serge, who had saved him a helping of vegetable soup.

"You look thoughtful again, lad. Something wrong?" The kindly old man asked, and Aramis shook his head, half-smiling.

"I just think perhaps it's time I give our youngest some lessons in triage in the field." Serge placed his plate down in front of him on the table.

"Not a bad idea. He has the hands for it. Stitched up a couple of the horses when Jacques couldn't, and he's always helpin' with broken saddles, cloths, and such like." That was news to Aramis, but welcome news. He grinned - he was going to have to pay more attention to whatever d'Artagnan did when he wasn't with the three of them.

"Well then, looks like I have more to work with than I first thought." If the boy had worked on horses before - well, they were about as flighty as injured young men had the potential to be, so yes, that was something he could definitely work with, and with a little luck, one day, perhaps d'Artagnan could be a match for his own talent with a needle.


End file.
